Let Me Hear You Say It Just Once
by ChaosRocket
Summary: They have the same scars. That's why it works. Thiefshipping, as always and ever. Post-canon.


"I love you," Marik says mindlessly, unthinking. "I will always love you, no matter what."

Marik is drunk. He hates being drunk, because it robs him of his inhibitions, makes his mouth spill out truths that he'd rather keep private, sentiments that he knows will never be returned.

But he can't stay away from the alcohol, and the sweet, mind-numbing oblivion it brings, the release from his pain, the feeling that everything is alright, alright, no problem.

"You wouldn't," Bakura's voice comes back, pulling him only partway out of his haze. "If I fell in love, then you wouldn't be."

"Thash true," Marik says, slurring his words, not noticing or caring.

And Marik knows that it's true. And that Bakura knows him too well.

Marik has already spent too much of his life being trapped and controlled. Bound by expectations. He can't stand any more expectations. Certainly not the kind of expectations that would exist in a formal relationship, with rules and boundaries and promises that weren't meant to be broken. Someone loving him would just be another cage, trapping him, ensnaring him.

And so Marik can only commit to someone who won't commit to him. No expectations of him from the other. No promises demanded from him. No pressure. Only then is he free to give himself to another. And Bakura knows this as well as he knows the scars on Marik's back, traced by his fingers so many times.

And this is perfect for Bakura, because he knows that he could never love anyone, never count on anyone. It is the ideal arrangement, and it is what has kept them together for so long, what brought him back to Marik after all his carefully laid plans had failed and he'd been pulled back into existence, no longer having any purpose to fulfill.

"Never initiate sex with me," Marik had told him once, near the beginning. "I hate that. If I want it, I'll let you know."

Bakura had never had any problem with this condition, for Marik wanted it all the time, sometimes more often than Bakura could keep up with.

"You're insatiable," he would tell Marik, and Marik would just laugh and kiss him.

This time, they've already started, Marik having made his desires apparent, so Bakura reaches down to stroke him, and Marik gets lost in his touch as he always does, leaning into Bakura and losing himself in the pleasure and the nearness of his lover's body.

And then Bakura does something he's never done before, letting his touch turn light and teasing, just barely brushing against Marik's straining erection.

Marik tries to push against Bakura's hand, but Bakura pulls back, denying him the sensation that he craves, continuing to pet him lightly, his fingers finding the most sensitive places on Marik's cock, but never giving him the pressure that he needs.

Marik starts panting, and then he's saying Bakura's name, his voice eventually turning into a desperate whine.

"I'm barely touching you," Bakura says quietly. The tone is intimate, but it conveys a slight satisfaction, and the implication is clear: Bakura is asking why Marik is going so crazy when he's hardly doing anything to him.

Marik doesn't answer, so Bakura keeps it up, that light, teasing touch, and soon Marik's mouth finds Bakura's neck, biting and sucking, desperate for something to latch onto. Then his lips are at Bakura's ear.

"Oh, Bakura...I can't stand it anymore..."

"Are you sure?" Bakura asks, and there's a teasing note in his tone, because he's never seen Marik like this before, so willing to give himself up, to give himself over to him.

But it was the wrong tone to take, because Marik pulls back, determined to resist his own need.

Suddenly, Marik's mouth is around Bakura's erection, and Bakura throws his head back, unprepared for the sudden assault on his senses, unable to stifle a moan as Marik takes him all the way in.

Bakura has only an instant to think before the pleasure obliterates all conscious thought, and for some reason, in that instant he thinks of the words Marik said to him long ago, near the beginning of it all, in a moment of drunken weakness: "I always have to be the pursuer. I can't stand being chased. So it's good that it's like this between us, that I always have to chase you, that you'll never tell me you feel the same way. But sometimes...sometimes I want to give up, because it hurts so much to keep waiting, to wait for something I'll never..."

Then the ecstasy takes over and he can't think of anything besides Marik's mouth around him, Marik's hand gripping tightly and following after, and then Bakura does something he's never done before and moans out Marik's name as he comes.

Afterwards, Marik cuddles close into Bakura's side, and Bakura wants to drift off to sleep, but he knows that Marik is still in need, so after a moment he dips his head and gives Marik what he's been wanting, and Marik moans louder than he can ever remember him moaning, until finally he spills everything into Bakura's mouth and then seems completely calm at last.

Bakura comes up and lets Marik cling to him, and as Marik kisses him, he finally allows his eyes to close, resting peacefully in the aftermath.

With that, Bakura surrenders to sleep, letting his thoughts fade away into dreams, and so he doesn't know it when he unconsciously wraps his arms around Marik, and he doesn't know it later in the night when a sleeping Marik rolls away from him and it causes Bakura to make an automatic sound of protest and instinctively reach for Marik, waking him.

"I love you," Marik sighs as Bakura reaches for him, the touch pulling him out of his dreams. "I love you so much."

"Never stop waiting for me," Bakura mumbles, still half-asleep. He won't remember saying this. "Don't ever give up on me."

* * *

AN: Wrote this randomly, hope you liked it, please review! And OF COURSE they lived happily ever after.

And I swear Tae and I are working on the next chapter of Playing Card Games Is Just Like Making Love, it will be out soon!


End file.
